Chapter 17 IZZY
IZZY
Nico's hand presses against the small of my back, guiding me through the doorway of his bedroom.
The space feels vast and unfamiliar, all dark wood and crisp white sheets, but his touch grounds me.
We've crossed some invisible line tonight. No more hiding, no more stolen moments in shadows. My pulse races with a mix of fear and longing, seven years of what-ifs crashing into this reality.
He stops at the edge of the bed, turning me to face him. His eyes, those deep, dark eyes, hold mine without flinching. “Izzy,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. “Let me show you how much I want you.”
I nod, throat tight, as he cups my face and kisses me softly. It's different from the frantic hunger earlier. Tender, like he's memorizing me all over again.
His lips trail down my jaw, my neck, sending shivers across my skin. I arch into him, hands clutching his shoulders, but he pulls back just enough to lift my shirt over my head.
“I want to see you,” he says, stripping away the rest of my clothes with a care I’m not used to. I stand bare before him, vulnerable, but the way he looks at me, like I'm so precious, eases the knot in my chest.
He lays me down on the bed, the mattress dipping under our weight, and climbs over me, fully clothed still.
His mouth finds my collarbone, kissing slow paths downward. Over my breasts, he lingers, tongue circling one nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth.
I gasp, fingers threading into his hair. “Nico…”
He hums against my skin, the vibration pulling a moan from me. Lower still, his lips brush my stomach, pausing there as if he knows the history etched into it. Noah's existence, our secret child.
The thought aches sweetly, and tears prick my eyes.
How did we get here, after all this time?
He spreads my thighs with strong hands, settling between them. His breath warms my core before his tongue flicks out, tasting me.
I buck up, but he holds me steady, lapping at my folds with unhurried strokes.
“You taste so good,” he whispers against me, then sucks my clit into his mouth. “So fucking good, baby.”
Pleasure builds slow, coiling deep in my belly. I watch him, this powerful man on his knees for me, and it undoes something inside. Seven years of raising Noah alone, scraping by, wondering if I'd ever feel wanted like this again.
Now, Nico devours me like he could live on this forever.
“Mia regina,” he murmurs between licks, the words foreign and intimate.
“What, what does that mean?” I pant, hips rolling against his face. My Italian’s rusty at best, and right now, it’s a miracle my brain cells even connect.
He looks up, eyes gleaming. “My queen.”
Then, he dives back in, tongue thrusting inside me, fingers joining to curl against that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
The orgasm hits me like a wave, gentle at first, then crashing. I cry out his name, body trembling as he works me through it, not stopping until I'm boneless.
He kisses his way back up, shedding his clothes along the journey, until he's naked and pressing against me.
I need more. Need him inside me.
With a surge of boldness, I roll us over, straddling his hips.
His cock stands hard and thick, and I guide it to my entrance, sinking down slowly. He fills me completely, stretching me in the best way, and we both groan.
I ride him, grinding down, feeling every inch slide in and out. It's empowering, this control, but I see the hunger in his eyes. I realize he's holding back for me. The rhythm feels like reclaiming lost time, our bodies syncing after years apart.
Suddenly, his hands capture my wrists, locking them behind my back with one firm grip, just like that night seven years ago. The memory floods me. I remember his dominance, my surrender, and it ignites fresh heat.
I lean forward, breasts brushing his chest, and he captures one nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to sting.
“Fuck, Nico,” I moan, bouncing faster.
He releases my nipple with a pop, then massages my clit with his free hand, circles matching my movements. His hips thrust up, meeting me thrust for thrust, the slap of skin echoing in the room.
“You're mine now, Izzy. No more running, no more secrets.”
His words wrap around my heart, sweet and binding.
I want to believe them, but doubt lingers—can this last?
He's a mafia boss; my life is simple, ordinary.
Yet as he whispers, “I'll never let you go.
You'll never work another day if you don't want to. Be my queen, treated like you deserve,” tears well up again.
“I... I can hardly believe it,” I admit between gasps, pleasure building anew.
He thrusts deeper, eyes locked on mine. “I'll show you. Every day, with actions. Starting now—I'm going to come inside you, fill you up. Put another baby in you, and another, until our family is whole.”
The promise shatters me. Another child? With him? The idea, irrational and profound, breaks open the walls I've built.
I come hard, pussy clenching around his cock, milking him as waves of ecstasy pull me under.
He follows with a guttural groan, spilling deep inside, hot and claiming.
We stay like that, joined, breaths mingling as the aftershocks fade. His hold on my wrists loosens, but he pulls me down to his chest, arms wrapping around me.
“Mia regina,” he breathes into my hair. “Sleep now. We've got forever.”
I drift off against him, the weight of his words settling like a balm. For the first time in years, hope feels real.